The Works of Shakespeare: in Eight Volumes, المجلد 8H. Woodfall, 1767 |
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الصفحة 5
... dead bodies was not an old inftitution among the Romans ; but their dead weré interr'd.Ipfum cremare apud Romanos nom fuit veteris inftituti : terrâ condebantur . A32 Dramatis Perfonæ . ESCALUS , Prince of Verona . Paris PROLOGUE . 5 ...
... dead bodies was not an old inftitution among the Romans ; but their dead weré interr'd.Ipfum cremare apud Romanos nom fuit veteris inftituti : terrâ condebantur . A32 Dramatis Perfonæ . ESCALUS , Prince of Verona . Paris PROLOGUE . 5 ...
الصفحة 14
... dead , that live to tell it now . Ben . Be rul'd by me , forget to think of her . Rom . O , teach me how I fhould forget to think . Ben . By giving liberty unto thine eyes ; Examine other beauties . Rom . ' Tis the way To call hers ...
... dead , that live to tell it now . Ben . Be rul'd by me , forget to think of her . Rom . O , teach me how I fhould forget to think . Ben . By giving liberty unto thine eyes ; Examine other beauties . Rom . ' Tis the way To call hers ...
الصفحة 27
... dead I hold it not a fin . Cap . Why , how now , kinfman , wherefore storm you fo ? Tyb . Uncle , this is a Montague , our foe : A villain , that is hither come in spight , To fcorn at our folemnity this night . Cap . Young Romeo , is't ...
... dead I hold it not a fin . Cap . Why , how now , kinfman , wherefore storm you fo ? Tyb . Uncle , this is a Montague , our foe : A villain , that is hither come in spight , To fcorn at our folemnity this night . Cap . Young Romeo , is't ...
الصفحة 31
... dead , and I must conjure him . I conjure thee by Refaline's bright eyes , By her high fore - head , and her fcarlet lip , By her fine foot , ftraight leg , and quivering thigh , And the demefnes that there adjacent lie , That in thy ...
... dead , and I must conjure him . I conjure thee by Refaline's bright eyes , By her high fore - head , and her fcarlet lip , By her fine foot , ftraight leg , and quivering thigh , And the demefnes that there adjacent lie , That in thy ...
الصفحة 40
... dead ! ftabb'd with a white wench's black eye , run through the ear with a love - fong ; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow - boy's but - fhaft ; and is he a man to encounter Tybalt ? En . Why , what is Tybalt ? Mer ...
... dead ! ftabb'd with a white wench's black eye , run through the ear with a love - fong ; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow - boy's but - fhaft ; and is he a man to encounter Tybalt ? En . Why , what is Tybalt ? Mer ...
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againſt becauſe Benvolio Brabantio Caffio call'd Capulet Clown Cyprus dead death Defdemona Desdemona doft doth Duke Emil Enter ev'n Exeunt Exit eyes faid fame father fatire feems feen fenfe fhall fhew fhould flain fleep fome Fortinbras foul fpeak fpirit Friar Lawrence ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword gentleman give Hamlet hath heart heav'n himſelf honeft Horatio houſe huſband Iago is't itſelf Juliet King lady Laer Laertes lago loft Lord married Mercutio moft Moor moſt muft muſt myſelf night Nurfe Ophelia Othello paffage Perfon play pleaſe Poet Polonius pray purpoſe Quarto Queen reafon Rodorigo Romeo ſay Shakespeare ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe there's theſe thing thofe thou art to-night Tybalt uſe villain whofe wife William Shakespeare word yourſelf
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الصفحة 231 - tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all : Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows, what is't to leave betimes ?
الصفحة 17 - Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
الصفحة 123 - I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres...
الصفحة 177 - Tis now the very witching time of night When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on.
الصفحة 185 - Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? You cannot call it love, for at your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment Would step from this to this?
الصفحة 221 - I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come ; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Hor. What's that, my lord? Ham. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i
الصفحة 160 - As made the things more rich; their perfume lost, Take these again; for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
الصفحة 261 - Their dearest action in the tented field, And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, And therefore little shall I grace my cause In speaking for myself.
الصفحة 31 - Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty.
الصفحة 26 - Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.